


Magnet Fishing

by allislaughter



Series: Fluffy February 2021 [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Fishing, Fluff, Fluffy February 2021, M/M, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allislaughter/pseuds/allislaughter
Summary: Deacon and Rig go fishing. For scrap metal.
Relationships: Deacon (Fallout)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Fluffy February 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138028
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Magnet Fishing

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for day one of the [fluffyfebruary](https://fluffyfebruary.tumblr.com/) event on tumblr! Prompt: Fishing

The morning starts with Rig shuffling in to make himself a cup of tea, far earlier than he normally wakes. Deacon watches silently as Rig makes his tea and breakfast, waiting to see when he’ll be noticed...

“Want to go fishing with me?” Rig asks without looking up from his cooking.

Oh, shame. He’s already been noticed. Deacon grins, lifting his brow in amusement. “Fishing for what? Compliments?”

“Scrap metal,” Rig answers.

“Oh. Good eats.”

“Mm-hmm.” Rig sits down across from Deacon. “Tasty, nutritional st— stuff. To feed the fires. Gonna melt some things and make other things.”

Deacon laughs. “Yeah? So you’re going from being a Miller to being a Smith?”

“Well,” Rig says. “S’less forging more.... Welding? Found a plerson who does... Knows welding things. We’re gonna make some stuff.”

“So we’re going  _ fishing.” _

“Mm-hmm,” Rig nods. “Made a fishing pole and everything.”

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Deacon chuckles. “Fishing. Sounds fun. Is that why you’re up so early?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rig nods again. “Because... Gotta wake up early to fish. When everything’s quiet and sun’s just risen... Best time of day to fish.”

“Who told you that?”

“That’s just how we always did it when I was a kid,” Rig says. “I used to go fishing as a kid... Dad would take me out to the river, he’d bait the hook for me, and then I’d cast it and catch fish...”

“Right,” Deacon nods. “Classic pre-war father-son bonding...”

“No,” Rig says. “Brother never went with us. And Dad didn’t know I was his son...” He gets up and grabs an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle and a make-shift funnel and pours the rest of his tea in. He grabs a cloth to insulate the bottle and then his breakfast. “C’mon, let’s go. I can eat on the way.”

Deacon cocks his head and watches Rig.  _ “Someone’s _ excited to show me his handiwork.”

Rig giggles. “C’mon! Let’s go!”

The trip to the “fishing hole” is a smooth walk with Rig leading the way and Deacon watching for any threats while Rig eats his food, shifts his bag on his shoulder every now and then, and talks excitedly, but hushed in the early morning quiet.

“Echo and I found the place while scavenging a while ago,” Rig explains. “And I’ve been wanting to go back and do stuff, and I finally got all the parts needed for a fishing pole and finished putting it together. I got a really cool magnet— stole it from one of those science-y places— so it’s weirder than normal magnetism which is a mystery of the universe like the Ness Ness NessNess or the— the- the- thing... guy....”

Deacon snorts and laughs. “You should have slept longer, Firebird.”

“I was excited,” Rig retorts. “We’re almost there...”

The fishing hole, as it turns out, seems to be an old excavation site from before the war, now filled with water and trash and who knows what else. Not that it deters Rig who happily sets down his back and takes out various parts to connect them all together.

“Oh, wow,” Deacon says, crouching beside Rig to inspect the fishing pole closer. “You made that out of trash?”

“Yeah!” Rig grins. “I’ve been learning things— Like it?”

“Have you used it before?”

“I found some weights to test it, but this is the first time I’m using the bagment.”

“Wow, that’s impressive even for you.”

“Mag— Magnet.” Rig pouts and Deacon laughs and steals a quick kiss.

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing,” Deacon says. “Show me how this works. Is that the bagment?”

“Yeah,” Rig nods. He takes an interesting looking piece of metal out of a wooden case and ties it to the end of the fishing line. “If this doesn’t work, if it at least doesn’t break the pole, then we can use the pole for other things.”

“Like?”

“We could steal Nick’s hat. Or... Someone’s hat.”

“Hat fish! Even more delicious than scrap metal!”

“Part of a balanced diet.” Rig stands up and takes a breath. “Okay— Okay, okay.” He casts the line.

The magnet sinks below the water.

Deacon stands up and watches the water for any movement. In his peripheral, he watches Rig tug the pole and slowly reel in the line. “Steady,” Deacon says.  _ “Steady...” _

“Shush!” Rig nudges into Deacon. “I know what I’m doing!”

Deacon grins. “ _ Steady...!” _

“Deacoooon!”

Deacon laughs. “Next time bring me a pole, then!”

“I only have the one magnet!” Rig gasps suddenly and grounds his feet. “Ooh— Ooh—” The top of the pole curves and Rig reels in whatever the magnet hooked onto.

Or at least tries to, if Rig slowly being pulled towards the water is any evidence of that. Either whatever Rig hooked is too heavy or too stuck, but either way, Rig is too weak to pull it in.

“Oop, hold on there.” Deacon grabs Rig by the waist and pulls him back. “I prefer my boyfriends like my coffee. Dry and on land, thank you.”

“Thanks,” Rig says, still trying to pull in whatever he caught. He relaxes his grip a moment to look over his shoulder incredulously. “Dry coffee?”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“Okay?” Rig looks back front, glancing back only once before returning to his efforts. “Uh— Should have thought this through, huh?”

“Mmmm, what would you say your strength is on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Can I go lower than 1?”

_ “Wow, _ it’s a good thing you’re smart and cute.”

“Oh, oh, oh, I think I—” Rig manages to reel up something to the surface of the water, and it skips along the surface until it gets close enough to reach.

Deacon lets go of Rig and grabs their fighty catch from the water. “Huh, what do you know?” He pulls the catch from the magnet and holds it up while Rig reels the magnet back in place. “A Silver Shroud lunchbox.”

“Oh, wow,” Rig gasps. “That’s worth all the mu— muhnuh-mih-nuh.”

“All the caps in the Capital Wasteland,” Deacon agrees. “We’re rich. Finally, we can retire.”

“No,” Rig says. “We’re not selling it. Is there anything inside it?”

Deacon peeks into it and then slams it shut. “Oh, it’s terrible!” he gasps. “You don’t want to know!”

“Okay,” Rig says. “Um— Throw it away then?”

“...That was a joke.”

“Oh— Then— What’s inside?”

“Nuka-Cola.”

“Ew!” Rig wrinkles his nose. “You’re right, that is terrible!”

Deacon laughs and slips an arm around Rig’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. “See if you can fish me up a new Corvega while we’re at it.”

Rig giggles. “My strength is less than one...”

“Just the keys, then.”

“Sure, let’s try!”


End file.
